


scale and wind

by kiyala



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Dragons, M/M, dragon dancing instead of ice skating
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-01
Updated: 2017-04-01
Packaged: 2018-10-13 14:24:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,455
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10515561
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kiyala/pseuds/kiyala
Summary: In the lead up to the Grand Prix Final, Victor is excited to compete against Yuuri Katsuki, an up-and-coming competitor who appears to be a promising challenge. That all changes when Katsuki's dragon, Vicchan, suddenly passes away.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [suaveshrub](https://archiveofourown.org/users/suaveshrub/gifts).



The moment that Victor steps off the train at Hasetsu, he's hit by just how much it smells like dragon. It permeates the air, a comforting and familiar scent that makes him think of flame, of the sharp burn of phosphorous at the strike of a match. 

He shuts his eyes with a smile, breathing it in. Beside him, Makkachin settles on her haunches, head tilted skyward, and flicks her tongue in the air to take in the smell too. Her wings are folded tight against her body, the way that they have been for the entire journey here, and Victor strokes her foreleg apologetically. He'll need to find an open space, to give her the chance to spread her wings out. 

Hasetsu, he finds, is the perfect place to take a dragon. The streets are wider, quieter, and he can't quite tell if it's because the town is actually built to accomodate dragons, or just because it's not as busy as the bigger cities. 

Victor stands there for a moment, enjoying the sight, until Makkachin snorts quietly, looking around. There are people staring at him, and it makes him realise just how much he stands out here. He's the only foreigner around, and even Makkachin doesn't fit in here, too European of a dragon to avoid standing out herself. 

They're here for a reason, though, and Victor offers his most charming smile to the people watching him, then pulls his phone out. He already has directions to Yu-topia Katsuki and it might be a bit of a walk, but Victor thinks that he could do with one, after spending so long sitting on the plane to Japan, and then the train out here. He's sure the same applies to Makkachin too.

She shakes herself out as they walk down the street, spreading her wings and brushing one affectionately against Victor's side. He chuckles fondly, glancing down at his phone just to make sure that they're going the right way. The route itself is fairly simple, so Victor turns his attention to the scenery around them. Hasetsu is beautiful, the late morning light shining on the lakes as they cross bridges, bringing out the colour of the cherry blossoms that they walk underneath. 

This is where Yuuri Katsuki grew up. Victor thinks about that, thinks about a younger version of the man walking this same path, seeing the same sights. He wonders if Yuuri has ever drawn inspiration for his choreography from his surroundings here, because Victor can already feel it all coming together, the beauty wanting to express itself through an aerial dance.

Victor has been aerial dancing for the past twenty years of his life and for most of that time, he's had Makkachin with him. In a sport that awards points for complex, dangerous manoeuvres, it's important for the dancers to have a steady trust in the dragon they're performing with, born from a deep bond. Victor and Makkachin have that; just the same as Yuuri and Vicchan did. 

_Did_ , Victor repeats to himself. When Yuuri blazed his path to the Grand Prix Final last year with consecutive golds, Victor was looking forward to facing him in a challenging fight for first place. It never eventuated; Yuuri's dragon had suddenly gotten ill and passed away before the final and he'd arrived, broken and distraught, with a borrowed dragon. 

Victor remembers watching Yuuri try—and he _did_ try—to perform his complex routine with a dragon he hadn't yet bonded with. Victor remembers wincing at every fall, the disappointment reaching into his chest and squeezing hard, but even that was probably just a fraction of what Yuuri must have felt. It's impossible, after all, to dance complex routines with new dragons. Intelligent as they are, they need the time to adjust to their dancers. For simple routines, it's usually a matter of months but for others, it can take _years_. The routines that Victor dances for competitions are a result of being with Makkachin since the age of fifteen. They're born from the faith that they both have in each other, impossible to replicate by anyone who didn't have the same sort of bond with their own dragon.

Or so Victor had thought, until Yuuri proved him wrong. He's seen the video multiple times—along with the rest of the world—and knows that the dragon Yuuri danced with when doing _his_ routine is one that he's never competed with before. There have been articles written about the video, hours of research poured into determining whether Yuuri has a new dragon, and the answer that they've all come up with so far is a resounding no; the one in the video is borrowed, and he doesn't appear to have chosen another to dance with regularly. 

Several hours of traveling later, Victor is here to do something about that. 

He isn't quite sure _what_ , just yet, but Victor knows that he needs to be here. Part of him has wanted to be here for months, to provide support as one competitor to another after such a personal loss, chasing the phantom warmth of a body pressed against his for one night in a dance without any dragons but still just as enjoyable. He's delayed it to focus on training but the Worlds are over now and the video of Yuuri is still making its rounds on the internet. Victor's decision had been obvious. 

When he arrives at Yu-topia Katsuki, he pauses to marvel at the fact that the entrance has been made wide enough to comfortably fit a dragon through. He doesn't see the small woman walking up to him until she's standing right in front of him, peering up at him with a smile.

"Victor," she says, and he's used to being recognised, but there's a knowing sparkle in her eyes. "Yuuri isn't ready to talk to anyone yet, but come this way."

Hiroko, as she introduces herself, is Yuuri's mother and one of the owners of Yu-topia Katsuki, along with her husband. She's a force of nature despite her small stature, disarming Victor with her kind smile as she takes his bags and pushes a set of robes and a towel into his arms, guiding him and Makkachin to a room and then pointing him in the direction of the hot springs out the back.

The air here is thick with steam, but the smell of dragon is even stronger. Victor looks around, surprised to find that there are shallow pools with dragon eggs soaking in the naturally warmed water. As he walks further into the baths, he realises that there is a section to the side dedicated to small dragons who look like they've only recently hatched. They're clambering all over each other and playing in the water, sending out puffs of steam and smoke at each other as they flap their developing wings. Makkachin makes an inquisitive noise, but she seems content to watch from a distance. 

There are adolescent dragons further towards the back, well-behaved enough to be sharing hot springs with the guests, and Victor's attention is captured by a small pack of dragons gathering around a man sitting by the edge of one of the baths. Victor looks closer, eyes widening in recognition.

"Yuuri?" Victor calls out, watching as he freezes up for a moment before looking up. 

"Vi- _Victor_?" Yuuri lifts his hands to his face, as if to adjust his glasses, before realising that he's not wearing them. He squints instead. "What are you doing here?"

A few months ago, Victor had been thinking up the perfect way to introduce himself to Yuuri for the first time. After getting an armful of cheerful, drunk Yuuri at the banquet after the Grand Prix Final, he supposes that standing there in nothing except for a towel loosely slung around his waist isn't that likely to make things awkward. 

"I'm here to see you, of course," Victor tells him with a smile. "You're going to be the greatest aerial dancer in the world, Yuuri. I'm going to make sure of it."

 

 

* * *

 

 

They don't get to talk properly until later. Yuuri had yelled in disbelief, disturbing the dragons curled around him, and any conversation needed to be put off until they were calm again.

Sitting inside now, Victor rubs his hand over Makkachin's head, grateful for her help in calming the younger dragons. Yuuri is sitting on the other side of the table, his face flushed with exertion and embarrassment, not entirely able to look Victor directly in the eye.

"Why are you here?" Yuuri asks, his gaze fixed on the cup of tea sitting in front of him. "I mean, why are you _really_ here?"

"Didn't I already say?" Victor asks. "I want you to return to aerial dancing. I'm here to help you in any way that I can."

Yuuri makes a small, strangled, noise, curling in on himself a little. "It's not that easy. Do you really think that you could… if Makkachin…"

Victor sighs, pressing his hand more firmly to Makkachin's scales. "Truthfully, I don't know. But I know that I saw you _try_ at last year's final. I saw you aerial dancing with another dragon in that video. You're doing much better than I think I would in your position. Better than I think anyone could… I'm sure you've already heard it for yourself, but that level of complexity, on an unfamiliar dragon, when you haven't been in professional training for months…"

"It's not a big deal," Yuuri mumbles, bringing his knees to his chest and resting his chin on top of them. "It was just a short routine. The only reason it's impressive is because of your choreography."

Victor blinks with surprise. "Yuuri. If you gave me any dragon other than Makkachin, I wouldn't be able to do even half of my own routine. You say it's not a big deal, but I don't know anyone who would be able to do what you did."

Yuuri presses his lips together, frowning lightly. "I don't…"

"Do I have to show you for myself?" Victor asks. "Will you believe me if I try on another dragon?"

Makkachin lifts her head at that with a low growl.

"Just to prove a point, darling," he soothes, scratching behind the ridge on top of her head. "Maybe Yuuri will listen if he sees me fall a few times."

"Y-You don't have to do that!" Yuuri says hastily. "I don't want you to injure yourself. Please don't put yourself in danger like that, what if something serious happens and you don't recover by the time the Grand Prix season begins?"

Victor raises an eyebrow at him. "I don't think you understand. I'm here because I want _you_ at the Grand Prix."

"The rumours are true then," Yuuri breathes, and there's disappointment in his voice. "You really are retiring?"

Victor sips at his own tea, not replying immediately. "This year, I want to focus on you."

"But next year…?" Yuuri prompts.

"I don't think you should be looking that far ahead when you'll have your hands full preparing for this season." Victor eyes him critically. "If you could perform my routine while you aren't in your peak physical condition, I wonder how you would do if you _were_?"

"Is that what you're doing here?" Yuuri asks, raising an eyebrow at Victor. "You're here to train me." 

Victor wonders if he can stall for time again, or if that would be too obvious. He glances away, looking at Makkachin instead, and she huffs softly, tail waving from side to side. 

"I'm here to get you ready to return to the competition," Victor replies. He doesn't know how else to reply, when he still doesn't know exactly why he's here, or what he wants to do. Taking a deep breath, he forces himself to meet Yuuri's eyes again. "You were a strong contender at the Grand Prix last year, I'm sure you heard everyone calling you a dark horse."

Yuuri makes a dismissive noise, as if to invalidate every single comment made about him across the entire season. Victor takes note of his dicomfort and files it away, to think about later, to figure out his best approach. 

"I wasn't doing anything special," Yuuri mutters.

"There you go again." Victor smiles at him. "I think you're the only person who actually thinks that you're _not_ special, Yuuri. You're a national champion. The entire world was watching you." 

"Yeah," Yuuri agrees softly. "They all watched me fail in the final, didn't they? I came last for a reason."

"That was out of your control," Victor argues. "There's not a soul who would say otherwise."

"Really? Because I read the forums and—"

"Rule number one," Victor declares. "You're not going to read what kinds of comments people write about you online. The professionals should know better, if they're truly professionals. Nobody else has any right to comment when they don't know what you've been through, or how it affects your performance." 

"I was a disappointment." 

" _Yuuri_." Victor folds his arms across his chest. "What am I going to do with you? I'll find a way to turn your thinking around, just you wait."

"Hm." Yuuri doesn't look convinced, and Victor doesn't blame him. 

He came here without any real plan, but Victor wasn't expecting it to be this difficult. It's obvious that Yuuri still loves aerial dancing; anyone watching his video would be able to see that. He still takes pride in his performance, if he's still thinking about how poorly he did in the final. Victor was expecting to just come here and put those things together for him, to just give him the gentle push he needed to get back into practice again. 

It doesn't matter. Victor isn't about to give up so easily. 

"Imagine the records you could break," he tries instead.

"Your records?" Yuuri asks disbelievingly. "You want me to break your records?"

There's nothing that Victor wants more. He wants to fight Yuuri, tooth and nail, for the number one spot on the podium. He wants the rush of pride from winning a difficult competition. He wants a rival, and the closest thing he has to one is currently sitting across from him, not wanting to compete again. 

"Only if you think you could." Victor shrugs casually. 

Yuuri's shoulders drop, just a fraction. "…Oh."

Victor clicks his tongue, trying to backpedal without Yuuri realising. "It's just that posting that video felt like a direct _challenge_ and here I come to find that you aren't actually up for it—"

"It wasn't me," Yuuri tells him. "I didn't want the video online. I didn't even realise that I was being recorded. It's my friend, you see—her daughters. They're… great, but they're young and don't think these sorts of things through, and—"

"They were watching you perform," Victor surmises. "And realised that it was something to be shared. I don't blame them for it. I want to watch you too." 

Yuuri freezes up. "Right now?"

"Will your local aerial arena be open?" Victor asks. 

Yuuri hesitates at first, but he finally nods, relenting, and that's how they end up at Sky Castle, the local arena, twenty minutes later, with one of the dragons from Yu-topia Katsuki tagging along.

Victor watches from a distance as as Yuuri prepares. Yuuri finishes his stretches, guiding his dragon through them as well, then gets to his feet again. He steps closer, pressing his forehead to his dragon's and shutting his eyes, taking a deep breath. 

Each dancer has a different process when preparing to get into the arena. Victor has never really paid much attention to anyone else's, but he's fascinated now as he watches the tension slowly bleed out of Yuuri's posture, leaving him focused, ready, almost the way he looked back when he was competing last year. 

"What should I do?" Yuuri asks over his shoulder, not quite looking back at Victor.

"Anything," Victor replies. "I don't mind if you want to do my routine again. Or one of yours from last year." 

"Okay." Yuuri takes a deep breath. He looks at his dragon, bowing to it before he leads the way out into the middle of the arena. 

Makkachin, curled around Victor, rumbles softly with interest. Victor pats her, hushing her quietly, and watches Yuuri. 

There's no music playing, but the moment Yuuri starts moving, Victor realises that they don't _need_ any. His timing is steady and he guides his dragon through each step, beginning the routine with both of them on the floor. This is one of his earlier routines, Victor realises, taking in the way Yuuri maintains eye contact with his dragon the entire time, sometimes resting his hand against its muzzle so that it knows where to go next. 

He signs to his dragon, so brief that Victor almost misses it, and then bends at his knees to use the springy surface of the floor to launch himself into a flip. His dragon times its response perfectly, moving underneath him so that he lands with both feet on its back. He lifts his arms above his head, breathing for a beat before he bends his knees again. His dragon jumps and Yuuri spins himself as he flies upward through the air, lifting his legs into splits at the highest point of his arc. 

The dragon Yuuri is dancing with is Japanese; it doesn't have wings to spread, the way Makkachin would at this point in the routine. It doesn't need wings to fly at all, its long body curving elegantly in the air so that Yuuri lands on its lower back, springing him up again so that he can somersault twice.

Victor claps in amazement, and that must break Yuuri's focus because he's wobbly as he lands on the floor, having to keep himself up with his hands. It breaks the spell, and Yuuri straightens slowly, red-faced and panting for breath as he looks up at Victor. He turns redder, walking over to the edge of the arena where Victor is standing.

"I'm not—"

"You're amazing," Victor tells him. "I knew you would be, but seeing you in person, Yuuri… If only the whole world could see you like this."

"You really do want me to come back, don't you?" Yuuri asks, his eyes widening like he's only just realising it's true for the first time now. "You want me to compete." 

"I'll do anything I can to help you get on the world's stage again," Victor promises, and he means it. "Anything. Just tell me what you need." 

Yuuri looks like he's about to nod for a moment, but he pauses halfway through. He licks his lips, reaching for his water bottle. "I'll think about it."

 

 

* * *

 

 

Victor doesn't take any pains to hide the fact that he's in Hasetsu, letting the media take it however they will. He's still surprised when there are multiple articles the day after he arrives, declaring that Victor has retired from aerial dancing to become Yuuri's coach. 

He spends the morning in bed, scrolling through articles on his phone and watching in amazement as they detail his entire thought process out as if they understand exactly what he's thinking. They're giving him more credit than he deserves, he thinks with amusement, locking his phone and putting it down so he can get dressed and go to the front room for breakfast.

Yuuri is already sitting at the table, a dark cloud of despair hanging over his head as he reads through articles himself. He barely looks up when Victor sits down beside him, and there are bags under his eyes that speak of a poor night's rest.

"Are you okay?" Victor asks, touching his back. "Yuuri?"

With a sharp gasp, Yuuri flinches away from the touch. Victor watches him, but doesn't comment, lowering his hand instead. 

"Sorry," Yuuri mumbles, dropping his phone on the tabletop with a clatter. "I just—"

"You saw the articles," Victor says, picking up Yuuri's phone from where it fell in front of him. He places it face down in the space between them. "Are they bothering you?"

"They're all saying that you're here to be my coach," Yuuri replies. "Is that why you came? Are you going to coach me?"

"Is that something you want me to do?" Victor asks.

"Don't answer my question with a question." Yuuri exhales shakily. "I just want to know what's going on. I… I kind of think that you just want to take a break from aerial dancing and you're using me as a convenient excuse." 

"You don't think very much of either of us, do you?" Victor raises an eyebrow. "I can tell you now, that's not why I'm here."

"Okay," Yuuri nods, not sounding convinced at all, "so let's say you're here to get me back into competitive aerial dancing. I haven't even given you my answer for whether I want to, yet. Are you really thinking of becoming my coach?"

"Is that really so difficult to believe?" Victor asks, more curious than hurt.

Yuuri laughs, as if the answer to that should be obvious. "Why would you throw away an entire season just to coach me?"

There are so many answers that Victor could give to Yuuri's question, not limited to the way he looks when he's dancing with his dragon, or the thought that he could actually beat Victor's records if he wanted to. Victor can see his answers in the soft brown of Yuuri's eyes, the gentle bow of his lips, the way he's everything that so many atheletes wish they were, but doesn't even realise. 

"We can call it that," Victor declares, "if it makes people happy. I'll be your coach. I'll choreograph for you. I'll whip you into shape, until you're _better_ than you were last year. You'll beat everyone."

Yuuri doesn't reply immediately. Victor sighs quietly, and tries changing tactics once again. He can't quite tap into Yuuri's competitive spirit just yet, but maybe something else will work.

"You know," he murmurs, "when you qualified for the Grand Prix Final last year, I was more excited than I felt in years. I wanted to see you perform, just like everyone else did. But then, the way things happened and the way it affected you, I couldn't help but feel a little disappointed." 

"Disappointed?" Yuuri asks, his voice a little strained. "You think that _you_ were disappointed? I couldn't help it. I didn't want Vicchan to—I couldn't deal with—" 

"I'm not saying that it's your fault," Victor says quickly, shaking his head. "Don't misunderstand me. I was disappointed that your season ended the way it did. I wasn't disappointed in you, Yuuri, I was disappointed _for you_. Not just me. If you're willing to aerial dance, I'm willing to help you get a second chance, to find a better end to your season this year." 

If he's being entirely honest, Victor doesn't want to return to the competition until Yuuri is there to compete with. He knows better than to put that into words, though. He waits instead, letting his words sink in, watching as Yuuri slowly relaxes out of his defensive posture, his frown fading. 

"I want that too," Yuuri says, so softly that Victor almost misses it. "I want to win. I want to _keep_ winning." 

"Good," Victor nods, satisfied. "That's all I need to hear, Yuuri. I want you to win. We're going to find a way." 

Yuuri slants him a look and smiles so brightly that his eyes shine. Victor feels his heart catch in his throat and all he can do is smile back, certain that if there's anything in the world he can do for Yuuri, he will. 

There are reporters lining outside the front of the onsen, but none of them enter. Victor sees that Yuuri's sister Mari is making them keep their distance, her unimpressed expression scaring off the reporters who come too close. Yuuri freezes up when he sees all of them, as they're making their way out to the aerial arena again. Victor places a hand on Yuuri's back, pleased when he doesn't flinch away this time.

"Just keep walking," Victor tells him, gently guiding him through the crowd. He ignores the blinding camera flahses and thanks the reporters for their interest as they shove their microphones at him, wearing his most charming smile and answering their questions with the most superficial information; he's here to work with Yuuri. His priority is getting Yuuri to the Grand Prix Final this year. Makkachin, who is walking behind them, is perfectly healthy as they can see for themselves.

 

The reporters finally let them pass, and Yuuri heaves a sigh of relief once they're free. Victor smiles, patting Yuuri on the back before pulling his hand away.

"That wasn't so bad."

"You're good at handling them," Yuuri replies. "I'm not. I never know what to say when I'm staring into a camera, or if someone's holding a microphone at me."

Victor laughs softly. "I've had plenty of experience, I suppose. You get used to it. All they ever want is something to build a story around. You don't have to give them everything." 

"You didn't confirm or deny anything when they asked if you're going to be my coach," Yuuri comments.

"It's always good to maintain some element of mystery, don't you think?" Victor smiles. "Do you have another coach anyway?"

Yuuri shakes his head. "Celestino stopped being my coach when I left Detroit. When I first started here, Minako-sensei was the closest thing I had, but…"

"Minako," Victor repeats. "Do you think that she would rather coach you, instead of me?"

Yuuri snorts quietly. "I don't think she'd argue with anything you wanted to do. I don't think anyone would."

" _You've_ argued with me," Victor points out, hoping that he doesn't sound too obviously thrilled by this. "Will you take me as your coach then, Yuuri?"

"Maybe." Yuuri smiles, a flash of something bright and daring in his eyes, gone when he blinks again. "…I don't even know why you're asking. I'm sure that anyone in the world would want you to be their coach."

"I'm asking if you do," Victor murmurs, trying not to let himself be swayed of the memory of a night too many months ago. "I'll be your coach, if you ask." 

"That's it?" Yuuri laughs a little. "I just need to ask? Alright then. Be my coach?" 

Yuuri's choice of words, sober and clear this time, makes Victor's face feel warm. He nods, and he feels as if _he's_ the one who is getting everything he ever wanted. "Of course, Yuuri."


End file.
